Cowardice not Bravery
by Just2normal
Summary: What happens after Draco fails to kill Dumbledore and is imprisoned by Voldemort, later to be joined by a kidnapped Hermione Granger. Will they put aside their differences to escape or be prisoners of the darkest wizard ever known? Rated for later chapter
1. Ch 1 Imprisonment

Draco felt the sweat running down his back and melting into the fabric of his shirt as he pelted as quickly as he could off of the Hogwarts grounds.

Snape, close behind him bellowed, "Don't go with them Draco, wait for me!" But before he could even falter in his stride, Draco was grabbed roughly on one side by Amycus and the other by Alecto.

Their grips were bone crushingly tight; he was losing the feeling in his fingers.

"C'mon Alecto, lets take Draco back to the Dark Lord- he said if the boy failed to kill Dumbledore that he would be. . . punished!" Amycus giggled as he said the last word with an exited pull on Draco's arm.

Alecto grinned, her face stretching taut in manic desire as she imagined their reward for returning with the young Malfoy.

Draco panicked, his blood going cold at the stone iciness of brother and sister, he wrenched at the two and screamed, "Help me Severus! Please!"

_If Snape can get here in time. . ._ he thought pleadingly.

But just as a dark shadow appeared hurtling towards them, the twins disapparated, still holding tightly to Draco's arms.

He felt the pressure increase in his eardrums and the pain made him scream, but the air had been pushed from his chest. He couldn't breathe, his brain struggled with thoughts that didn't matter from lack of oxygen and black started showing around the blurry edges of his vision.

Suddenly the pressure let up and Draco gulped in mouthfuls of cold, damp air. His legs gave out from exhaustion but his body was still held aloft by the siblings' talons.

"Quickly, we must speak with the Dark Lord! Look! The Malfoy boy, he failed his task and now will receive what he has coming!" It was Amycus speaking to some cloaked figure, his voice giddy with delight.

The figure nodded and started down a corridor, heels clicking ominously on the cold stone floor, sometimes splashing in a puddle of dark water.

Amycus and Alecto dragged Draco between them, following the swishing cloak down a series of stone staircases, all the while the temperature descending until Draco was shivering and too afraid to fight the insane man and woman holding him captive.

They reached a large wooden door with an iron knocker crudely attached to its side, which the hooded figure promptly grasped and knocked three times.

Silence ensued, Draco glancing left and right, his body quivering with both cold and fear until even the siblings were shaking from his shivers.

"Yes." Finally came the answer from inside the room, an arctic, unfeeling voice that echoed frostily in the corridor.

All four entered the dark, cavernous looking room. The dim light was produced by small, randomly placed candles on the wall which was uninterrupted by either window or door excepting the one they had entered. The back of the room was completely ensconced in darkness and Draco- though he could not see what dwelt there- knew Voldemort resided there.

At once the three Death Eaters dropped to their knees, "My Lord," started the figure, "your servants have returned from Hogwarts- but. . . it appears the plan did not go as well as expected."

Again, silence. Draco was pulled to the ground by his captors and stared into the dark, his shivers so strong he could barely sit straight and his heart beating so loudly he was sure everyone in the room must have known his exact pulse.

"So Draco, you- just like your father- have failed me. You did not complete your task as I told you to and my trusted spy was forced to break his cover in order to finish it for you."

The wintry tone was steady and unnerving, emanating from the darkness to raise the hairs on the back of Draco's neck.

"I admit I had little belief in your abilities to terminate that old mans life, but I believed you would at least try, perhaps die trying. Apparently Bellatrix," Voldemort directed at the figure, "my new follower does not understand the severity of the choice he made in receiving that mark on his arm. Perhaps he thought it only a symbol of power to show off to his friends."

From the shadows emerged a pale, robed figure with blood red eyes and slit nostrils. Voldemort glided over to the grouping and motioned the siblings who immediately released Draco from their hold and pushed him forward.

"You may leave." Voldemort ordered Amycus and Alecto, who quickly scrambled to obey, leaving behind a very lost boy with his insane aunt and an extremely angry

Voldemort.

"Well you were right boy, this is a sign of power!" Screamed Voldemort, snatching up Draco's arm and ripping off his sleeve, "It is a sign of _my_ power over _you_! I own you! I control your every thought and movement, your feelings and actions! You dare disobey my orders? How could you not have killed Dumbledore? He was at your mercy- Oh yes I have already spoken with Fenrir Greyback- he told me of your cowardice."

Voldemort was pacing in front of the kneeling boy anger seeping from his being while Draco flinched at every _click click _from his shoes hitting the unforgiving stone.

"What am I to do with you Draco? Kill you? Or. . ." He pointed his wand at the boy and muttered, "_Crucio!_"

Draco yelped with pain and curled in on himself, holding his knees to his chest, rocking back and forth, moaning.

Years of being tortured when he had disobeyed his father or done something wrong had diminished the effect of pain on Draco but the curse was so strong tears welled up in his eyes, they grew, threatening to fall but he refused to show this small sign of weakness, too prideful. Then it was lifted.

Fear clouded his brain, no explanation came to mind to tell Voldemort why he had failed he just collapsed on the hard floor. The sweat from his forehead dripping into the cracks.

Voldemort furrowed his brows, contemplating, "No screams for mercy, no pleading, nothing?" He nodded, "I must say Lucius has taught you well, such a pity it would be to kill you. What do you think Bellatrix? He is your nephew. Should I spare his life?"

The woman lifted the cloak from her head and bowed to her Lord then looked at Draco, calculating. "He is strong My Lord, and a good asset. But his loyalties are questionable. Perhaps a good, long stay in the dungeons will strengthen his resolve."

Draco was paralyzed in disbelief; they were not going to kill him, yet. He dared not speak, or barely even breathe, awaiting the decision that would determine if he lived or died.

Voldemort looked thoughtful, examining Draco as he would a mildly interesting bug that had been caught in honey, then nodded, "Very wise Bellatrix, he could be useful in the future. Take him to the dungeons."

Bellatrix took hold of Draco's robes and dragged him off the floor. He was now breathing heavily from relief.

"But Draco, be a good boy, or else I might accidentally have to harm your lovely mother, and dear Bellatrix here would not like that."

The words echoed after Draco down the corridor and as they sank into his frozen brain, so did the horror of his reality.


	2. Ch 2 Trouble in Paradise

Disclaimer: Sorry I forgot in chapter one to tell everyone that no, I am not J. K. Rowling, therefore I own none of her amazing characters or places or creations.

Two weeks later. . .

Hermione is startled from sleep by her alarm clock, _Like a Virgin_ is playing very loudly and refusing to let her drift back into unconsciousness.

Sighing she untangles herself from the lavender sheets and rolls onto the lime green crocheted carped in front of her bed that she had made the year before.

As she listens to the lyrics a smile plays on her lips and she mumbles, "I really relate to you Madonna, I too feel like a virgin; except I'm not being touched- at all."

Turning the radio off, Hermione walks from her bedroom into the bathroom for a quick shower with her good friends Mr. Loofa and Mrs. Aveeno Radiance shower gel, with a side of shampoo and conditioner.

This is the start of any good day to her, especially if she is stuck in muggleland for a few weeks before heading to the Burrow.

But her parents need this time with her since they barely ever see her and Hermione actually enjoys coming back for a while to visit a few old friends and spend 'bonding' time with her mum and dad.

Though she hates leaving the comfortable, steamy shower, Hermione turns off the water and grabs the terry cloth towel to dry off with before trudging back to her bedroom to get dressed in some boring jeans and an old KEY club tee.

There is nothing to do in Brighton during the summer holidays except go to the beaches (and Hermione doesn't like bathing suits), go to museums (and Hermione had already been to them all- many times), and basically do nothing (which Hermione hates).

So, driven by necessity, and fear that if she doesn't do it her old friends would mob her house, Hermione picks up the phone and calls them.

It may not seem like it but she really likes her old friends, but they just have this way of always trying to find out what she did at Hogwarts all year and it was tiring.

It isn't thirty minutes before CJ, Laura, and Chaarity are at the door exited to see their once BFF again.

They are definitely an interesting group; CJ is a gay field commander for the marching band with absolutely no self-esteem issues, Laura is a dramatic Jesus freak who cares very deeply about people in need, and Chaarity is. . . independent, sure, and open- always the one to tell things to if you don't want to be judged.

Hermione still liked them, sure, its' just that she didn't feel that close to them anymore. There was no common ground on which their relationships could relate so they just didn't know each other anymore.

"Oh my god!!!!!!" Shrieked the overexcited CJ, jumping right into her house to hug her, showing no shame in open affection.

That was something she had missed, Harry and Ron just didn't do PDA (public displays of affection) unless it was with someone they were dating.

But Hermione turner her thoughts back to these three wonderful people surrounding her that she hadn't seen in so long.

Laura was next to jump her and held the hug so long Hermione thought she may have been praying. And finally Chaarity walked over slowly, looked at her, and asked how she was.

It wasn't one of those fake questions that's most people ask out of necessity though, Chaarity meant what she said when she talked. These were the reasons Hermione missed them so much, the rare qualities that each of her friends possessed really drew her in.

Sadly Hermione couldn't engage Chaarity in all the reasons why she wasn't fine- and that was why they were no longer good friends.

They decided to go to the mall, at the urging of course from CJ. Hermione went along with it, taking booth pictures and trying on countless odd outfits that they all picked out for her, but truth be told she hated shopping, with a passion really, and this was becoming torture. All different colored clothing was coming at her: red, blue, gold, green, orange, some color that slightly-but-not-really-resembled puce. . . Merlin! She couldn't take it anymore!

Finally she had enough and turned to Laura, the most gullible one, and sighed, "Ohhhhhh, my period is acting up. I don't know why but it's been really nasty lately. I think I'm gonna go home and take a nap, is that alright?" Hermione gave this great moan and her efforts were rewarded with a sympathetic hug from Laura who promised to tell the others what had happened and ordered Hermione to feel better soon.

Feeling almost guilty, Hermione headed home but had lost the guilt halfway there, being so relieved at her freedom. She knew she shouldn't feel this way towards her friends but the way they lived was just so normal- too normal for Hermione who was used to being mature and making life threatening decisions. She couldn't go back to this tame lifestyle and just always be so carefree. She needed action, she needed something to happen.

The rest of her walk home was a blur of happy memories with Harry and Ron; at the burrow, at Hogwarts, in Hogsmeade, their adventures, their other friends like Hagrid and Neville , Luna and Seamus, Fred and George and Ginny! Her life was so wonderful and full of loving people, and Hermione felt so peaceful. . .

As she gets close to her house she begins to plan activities for the them at the burrow, which would include trying to get them to peek at their school books sometime- which usually never happened. The meals at Mrs. Weasleys huge table and ----

_Gods no! _she thought, horrorstruck, _The Dark Mark, above my house!_

It wasn't happening, it couldn't be- who was dead?

She ran to the door, it had been torn off its hinges, little chips of wood were lying all over the floor. "MUM! DAD!?" Hermione looked around, noticing the chared look of her couches and completely destroyed kitchen, pots mangled and black, the fridge toppled over, the table broken in half.

"What happened, where are they?" she whispered to herself.

_But wait- they were at work, said they would be there all day, maybe they hadn't been harmed!_

"Who me?" A sinister voice snarled, "Why, I'm right here!"

Hermione turned slowly to come face to face with a rugged looking Fenrir Greyback who had, apparently, been looking for her.

"Oh little giiirrrlllllll, why are you sooooooo upset?" The deranged monster growled and like his chops seeing her skin and drawing ever nearer.

"Where are my parents? What have you done with them?" Hermione shrieked, "Where are my parents?" The Wolf man grinned a predatory smile and kept advancing. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about your parents, I would be more concerned with myself if I were you."

Hermione jumped away from his oncoming path and ran to the back door, trying to get away. He howled and pushed through the debris chasing her to the yard. She had made it to the gate but her hands were shaking so bad she couldn't get it open and she was forced to run to the other side of the yard and was halfway out the gate when a heavy paw knocked hard into her skull and she fell onto the concrete path, unconscious.


End file.
